


To Be Here

by Odin16immortal



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-07
Updated: 2015-07-07
Packaged: 2018-04-08 03:25:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4288905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Odin16immortal/pseuds/Odin16immortal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taena Merryweather has been called on by the queen. Yet, she is unsure about the changes in Cersei after the trial.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Be Here

Taena climbs the stairs of the Tower of the Hand slowly. Part of her wonders why she came. The queen asked for you to is the most readily available answer but even that doesn’t explain her need to be here. The desire to see a woman who would never truly cared about her. Cersei Lannister, the queen regent once more, her battle with the Faith is over, for now. Ser Robert Strong is true to his name a ruthless fighter that left his foes as nothing more than bloody carcasses. Taena had seen the slaughters for those were no battles just a butcher in the ring with pigs. Robert Strong is no knight, Taena isn’t sure he is even human.  
Still, why is she here? Taena bites her lower lip. Westeros is no better than Essos. If she must be embroiled in the tragedy of war then she would rather be in Myr. At least there she could sew while looking at a familiar sea. In Westeros, there are always battles over who will be king and the smell of shit fills the air. No matter how much time passes she is seen as an exotic foreigner, sexual yet bestial, this she knows well. Even though the people in the Free Cities had created great civilizations while Westerosi still crawled on all fours.  
Taena halts her musing as she reaches the top of the stairs. Robert Strong looms in front of the door like one of the Braavosi Titans. A cold shiver of fear runs down from the nape of Taena’s neck to her toenails, this must be how an insect views a human’s foot. In nervous habit, she attempts to twirl a dark curl of hair. Instead, her delicate hand meets a blonde wig. A curious gift that Cersei had sent her, although, Taena did not believe the wig’s cornish color,much less bold than the queen’s golden locks, suits her. Still, Lady Merrywather wants to please her queen. Ultimately, that is why she’s here.  
“I am here to see her, sir. If you be so kind as to open the door.” Lady Merryweather asks. Subtly, the woman twists her hips and pushes out her chest. If there is one thing she has learned it is that: sex appeal can easily hide fear. The giant doesn’t move nor say a word but she is sure that he looks at her from the abyss hidden in his helm. He steps aside.  
The Tower of the Hand is much the same as when Tywin Lannister met his unlucky fate. It seems Kevan Lannister has very similar taste and remodeled the tower the same way. The room is covered in crimson and gold. Statues of golden lions crawl on every surface. Upon crimson bed sheets lays the lioness herself, her gold hair flowing down onto her golden, lace covered cleavage. Wine bottles litter the floor, the finest grapes the Arbor can produce.  
Taena stops in front of the bed taking deep, uneasy breathes. Cersei green eyes land on her and never leave. A pink tongue licks red lips. Suddenly, Taena feels very much like a piece of meat. A distressingly large portion of her finds the look in Cersei’s eyes arousing. Cersei takes another swig of wine revealing her white throat. The red on her lips looks like blood. This woman has changed, Taena thinks as she moves unsteadily closer to the mouth of Cersei’s cave.  
Before the trial, Her Highness was a bright flame, flickering unquenchable fire. At the trial, she had clearly been broken. That flame had been suffocated. Taena can see the fire in Cersei, now, slow and roasting. A kind of harsh cold burn that lacks the little humanity she once had. Now Cersei is all bone and revenge. Taena wonders idly, if the other woman will be cold to touch.  
“Why are you here?” Cersei rasps out. Her voice holds none of its old silken quality. Instead, the blonde is all raw hunger.  
Taena blinks. Is Cersei so drunk that she would forget requesting her? No, this is a test. Taena quirks her lips up in a seductive smile. She sits on the edge of the bed never allowing her fear to show.  
“You called for me, my queen,” Lady Merryweather states seductively. Her tan hand reaches up to touch Cersei’s cheek only to be rebuked. Sharp nails bite into her wrist and the queen looks at her. Emerald eyes bore into Taena. Blonde curls bounce into the air landing where they may as Cersei laughs so hard she shakes the bed. Her laugh isn’t like it was before full of life, oh no, now Cersei sounds like a jackal. Unease washes over Taena. This is not the woman she knows even the smell is off.  
“You come to me because I call, is that the right of it? Like a dog.” Cersei hisses out. Taena freezes as a long white hand wanders down her neck groping and teasing her.  
“M-my queen,” Taena stutters. She is out of her element. Everything is becoming unhinged. In an attempt to steady herself, Taena glances around for something to ease her and the queen’s mind. “May I share the wine with you. It must be sad to drink alone.”  
“Women are nothing but bitches. Tell me do dogs deserve to drink wine with kings.” Cersei states.Her voice is cold. Taena shifts off the bed in stunned silence. How dare she! This queen and these Lannisters think they are better than everyone!  
“My younger brother,Tyrion, had whores. My father did, as well, I know he did. Even though...all he did is lie. Why can’t I?” Cersei whispers. It as if the blonde has forgotten Taena is there. Her head tilts back as if the gold lions on the ceiling would give her the answer.  
“I am not your whore!” Taena bites out, losing her seductive facade. Cersei rolls up off the bed.The sheets fall off of her like crimson red waves. Taena feels the sting of a hand with nails like talons clawing into the smooth skin of her flesh.  
“All women are whores for someone!”Cersei roars. Taena shrinks back, cradling her cheek. Cersei moves towards her a vicious look in her eye before stopping. She looks like a knight who has been knocked off his horse in a tourney. Taena blinks perhaps this is some type of strange roleplay.  
“Please, my lady, don’t beat me any more.”Taena whispers trying to return a husky quality to her voice. “I only like you rough in bed.”  
Cersei sees the Myrish woman before her but the image is blurring. Maybe it is the wine or that damnable wig, but Cersei can feel pasts ghosts claw at her eyes. In this moment , she sees her younger self. The stupid, romantic fool who thought tears would quell Robert’s fist. She reaches back her hand. Stop crying! No one cares about your tears! Cersei slaps Taena again.  
Taena runs back to the door. She turns the handle only to see the hulking mass of Ser Strong before her. Before Lady Merrywearther can think, she shuts the door. Tears stream down her olive skin. Why was she here?  
“Don’t cry when they beat you! You are a lion. The lion is to be feared. You are no mere dog!” Cersei roars before throwing the wine bottle to the floor. The glass shatters onto oak floors as the red wine soaks into gold embroidery.  
“You are a lion.” Cersei whispers. Her face the portrait of wretchedness. The blonde deflates, all her energy gone. Pale hands run through golden curls as the woman turns to the lone window. Kings Landing is ugly, the new Tower of the Hand the most wretched part of it all.  
“I wish I could burn it all. This wretched city is old and full of rot. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to burn it and created a new. “ Cersei mutters.  
“Your Majesty?” Taena asks. Despite her caution, Taena draws near standing side by side the queen. Cersei bends her head down looking out upon the people who had derided, shamed and chastised her. Tyrion. They should all burn.  
“The vermin out there will destroy everything I hold dear. I can keep you safe. No one can hurt you.” Cersei says finally. Taena frowns all of her pain in the present was wrought from Cersei’s hand.  
“You hit me.” Taena reminds. Her brown eyes narrow. Cersei looks at her with an expression of remorse. This is unexpected.  
“I’m sorry.” Cersei states. She is surprised that she means it. If all the tears hadn’t dried out of her she would cry.  
Taena is sure Cersei has never said those words to anyone before in her life. The thought warms her spurs her forward.  
“Show me,” Taena mutters into the nape of Cersei’s neck. “How would you protect me, my Lion?”  
Cersei slams the Myrish woman onto the bed with all the force of Robert’s war hammer. Her hands rip at Taena’s bodice and that red mouth claims Taena’s breath. Taena feels as if she is in the middle of a lion’s mouth and disturbingly she doesn’t want to escape.  
Cersei takes an aroused brown nipple in to her lips swirling it before biting gently. Taena moans. She attempts to touch her queen only for Cersei to pin her hands above her head.  
“Order me,”The blonde demands. Red lips quirk into a challenging smirk. There is no submission here. Taena knows whatever control she might feel is not truly hers. Still, the sense of power is heady.  
“Lick me,please..”Taena pleads. She raises her hips. Cersei’s laugh is all that keeps Taena distracted from the woman’s warm tongue.  
Cersei doesn’t merely lick her,no, the lioness dives into Taena’s love tunnel with gusto. At some point the sensations becomes too much and all the Myrish woman can do is cry out. Her brown hand wraps into golden curls as she feels herself slowly falling apart.  
“Your Majesty, please, I-I can’t take…” Taena breaks off in a moan. Cersei doesn’t mind her protest instead aiming only for the clit. Taena’s eye rolls back and she falls into pleasure. This is all Taena could ever want. The only reason to live. This is why she is here.  
Cersei looks at her lover. The wig long since fallen off the woman’s head revealing cascading jet black curls. She kisses her softly, admiring the orgasmic glow on her skin. A sharp rap on the door breaks her out of her reverie.  
“Come,” Cersei states to bothering to look at Qyburn as he enters. Taena is not roused even once.  
“She is a real beauty.”Qyburn states. His voice has the same oily quality it always does. Cersei glares at him. She does not like others looking at her things. She rakes a hand through Taena’s hair, thoughtfully. The woman belongs to her but doesn’t know it. At the moment, the queen can trust no one. Not even the woman who shares her bed. Yet, Qyburn says he has a solution for that.  
“See to it that she stays that way. I won’t make love to a creature that looks like Ser Robert.” Cersei hisses. Her warning hangs in the air for moment. She would not have Taena turned into an unrecognizable cripple like Jamie. Qyburn simply laughs.  
“My lady, this will be my finest project. A woman that will be able to withstand death, remain beautiful, and be loyal only to you. Indeed, what a masterpiece!” Qyburn declares while trembling in excitement. Cersei smiles, fondly. Let Tyrion try to destroy her happiness. 

Taena feels the whisper of lips upon hers and arms lifting her. She doesn’t bother to open her eyes. Cersei has shown her that she matters. She is glad to be here in the arms of her Lion.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments welcome


End file.
